Monday, May 24, 2021

Around me I see walls, hemmed in. Dim shapes in the gloom. Which are sleeping beasts? I cannot say.

The light grows bright and my eyes blink. These shapes are heaps of treasure, the room no prison but a library of wonder. The chains I felt before were but the embrace of my love.

Did the light transform this scene? I was never captive; what changed was my sight.

Unblind me, Lord.

(Letter #2,326)